


Attribution Theory

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Kouajaku/Aoba, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz is a mechanic running a small repair shop in Midorijima. One day, after taking a detour down a dark and narrow alley, he stumbles upon a white-haired man laying face down on the ground. After a brief internal struggle, he decides to knock out his good deeds for the month and takes the stranger back to his home to sober up. However, soon he finds out that the man is not a drunk, but a suspiciously damaged robot from an unknown manufacturer.</p><p>Based off of quesozombie's Noiz/Clear AU: quesozombiemoved.tumblr.com/post/67879739129 and headcanons of my own!!</p><p>Set in the dmmd universe (with a few slight altercations), but not the timeline in which dmmd takes place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Limbs were sprawled out on a disheveled pile of pillows and blankets. If it wasn’t for the hidden torso that connected all the appendages together, the scene would look like something out of a horror movie. They all angrily twitched when a loud cry broke the stillness and silence of the room.

Noiz groaned loudly as his alarm clock assaulted his eardrums with a high-pitched whine until he whipped his arm over to smack it, and the incessant chirp slowly whimpered away. Rubbing at the corner of his eye with one fist, he slid across the bed and sat up on the corner of the mattress. Even without looking at a mirror, he knew his short, blonde hair was probably unkempt and half of his face was probably covered in a layer of drool. And it was. He just rubbed his cheek with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before he pulled it off, replaced it with a pre-worn t-shirt and hoodie, slipped some ripped jeans on over his boxers, and clambered down the stairs while he clumsily fastened his belt around his waist.

The more Noiz looked and smelled like a druggie, thief, or stressed-out college student, the more people avoided him. That made errands go a lot smoother, so what he was wearing was his usual ensemble for going out to the store— or anywhere. He didn’t have a very expansive wardrobe.

On the first floor, he picked up a few stray bills and a shopping list he left for himself the night before by the entrance before heading out.

Noiz lived in the north-eastern part of the Old Resident District of Midorijima, where he managed a little repair shop out of the first level of his building. Because of his lack of formal technical education, he did mostly odd jobs to get by, surviving only because of his regular customers with bikes or motorcycles he could tune up or repair if it got trashed. Noiz did so many jobs on bikes that he could probably build one from scratch. He was also pretty skilled with high-tech electronics, but not many people in the Old Resident District had stuff like that that they didn't take extremely good care of because of it's worth. Before deciding to be a mechanic in Midorijima, Noiz lived in Germany, where he was predestined to a corporate position in his family’s suit-and-tie business. But as soon as he was eighteen, he was out of there.

Outside he was greeted by a gust of cold air and a clump of snow falling from the slanted awning above.  Noiz brushed the snow out of his hair, irritated, before pulling his hood over his head and shoving his hands into the front pocket of his jacket. He made a swift right turn and started walking south along the sidewalk to the convenience store. There were never any cars on the road,  aside from the occasional motorcycle, but Noiz stayed on the sidewalk to stay out of people’s way and line of sight. Drawing attention to himself wasn’t really his thing. It always seemed to cause trouble, anyway. There weren’t that many people out, considering how ungodly early in the morning it was, so keeping a low profile wasn’t hard. The sun was up, but there were still traces of night on the opposite horizon.

Upon arriving at the convenience store, the doors slid open with a low chime and Noiz walked inside. Automatic doors were pretty high-tech for Midorijima. But then again, there was a pretty big technological difference between the northern and southern districts. More hoodlums hung around in the northern district, so most of the shops moved to the southern district where there was less of a threat of break-ins or robberies.  The area that Noiz ran his shop in was something like the skid row of Midorijima. The chime rung again when the doors shut silently behind Noiz, and a muted, lyric-less song came from the speakers of the store.

“Oh! Welcome, Noiz.” A voice from the front of the store pulled Noiz’s head in its direction. Behind the counter stood a blue-haired male donning a uniform in the convenience store’s signature colors, a visor with the word “HEIBON” across it, and a nametag pinned to his shirt that read “Store Associate: Aoba.” He leaned into his palm with his elbow resting on the counter and gave a light smile, his eyes lightly closed.

“Hey, twink.” Noiz handed him the shopping list in his hand, and he took it with a smile. He heard an irritated huff beside him.

“Aoba, you shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

“Doesn’t faze me anymore,” he said, scanning over the shopping list before turning around to rummage in a cabinet behind the counter.

“I didn’t notice you were here, Koujaku.” Noiz was still facing the counter and Aoba’s back, but he glanced over at the black-haired man out of the corner of his eye. Koujaku stood with his palms flat on the counter and an utterly disgusted look on his face.

“What, I don’t get a nickname too?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Noiz sneered in response. “I don’t want to waste the brainpower to think of one for you.”

“You little piece of—“

“Honestly, you two. Stop bickering,” Aoba said, not looking up from what he was doing. Koujaku silenced himself with another frustrated sigh, and Noiz chuckled silently to himself at his obedience. Aoba turned around to put a plastic bag with a small box inside on the counter. He punched the numbers for Noiz’s purchase into the cash register. “And stop frowning like that, your face is gonna get stuck that way.” He flicked Koujaku between his furrowed eyebrows and flashed a sheepish smile. Koujaku grit his teeth and brushed one hand across his face to cover the blush on his cheeks.

“Oh. This too.” Noiz plopped a sugary, pre-packaged cinnamon roll on top of the box and reached for the money in his pocket. Aoba added the price of the pastry onto his bill.

“That’ll be 4,590 yen.” Aoba accepted the money Noiz handed to him and pulled out some coins for his change, piling them in his hand on top of the receipt.

“Who spends that much at a convenience store?” Koujaku leaned against the counter, still glaring at Noiz, who hadn’t turned to look at him. Aoba shot him a stern look, and he pouted. Noiz just bought some basic things for his shop, like wires, bolts, electrical tape, anything he could really buy in bulk at the cheapest price just to make sure he had enough of it. But he didn’t feel like talking, so he turned his back and started walking.

“Thanks for your business,” Aoba called to Noiz, who had already reached the entrance of the store. Without turning back, he raised one hand in the air to wave before the automatic doors shut behind him.

 "Asshole,” Koujaku muttered under his breath. Aoba leaned over the counter and pinched his nose, laughing at the nasally words he spat out in response.

\--

Noiz walked down the still fairly empty street, his shopping bag hanging from the crook of his arm. His other arm was held up to display the screen of his coil in front of him. His eyes left the screen so he could take his cinnamon bun out of the bag and pull off the wrapper halfway. He took a bite of the sweet pastry, walking down the sidewalk with the same transparency as he did on his previous trip. There seemed to be less people on the street the second time around. He took another bite.

Just when Noiz was about to get back to what was displayed on his coil, a voice called him from behind, suspicious and unfamiliar.

“Hey, are you Noiz? The 'infamous' mechanic of Midorijima?” It almost sounded giddy, syllables being drug out and the pitch increasing when it met a vowel.

Noiz turned around, licking a patch of icing from the corner of his mouth. Two guys that appeared his age, one brawny and the other fairly lean, but still large, stood close behind with their hands in their pockets. Noiz quickly shut down his coil and turned his attention to them, but didn’t respond to their question. Just seeing his face was enough of an answer, apparently.

“Yeah, I thought I recognized you,” the smaller one said, tilting his shoulders forward. He flashed a mischievous smile. “We’ve been looking for you, you know?”

Noiz just raised his eyebrows.

The bigger man beside him spoke up. “We heard that you would do a discount job,” he said, stopping for a moment when he pulled a small bag out of his pocket, like he was trying to be suspenseful. Maybe he thought it made him more in control of the situation. Noiz wasn’t sure what the situation really was, anyway. The man continued speaking, backtracking on a few of his words. “…a job for a little trade-off?”

Noiz examined the bag. It was filled with a white, translucent, crystal-like powder. Probably some kind of drug. He breathed heavily out of his nose and turned his head away from the pair.

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Ehh?” The smaller one raised his voice again. “We even went to the best dealer to get this stuff.” The bigger man bounced the bag in his hand while the other spoke.

“I don’t want it.”

The bigger thug let out a disappointed sigh, throwing his hands back in his pocket. “Well, damn. I guess we’ll have to use it then.”

The smaller man spoke again, laughing awkwardly. “Wanna give us a discount anyway?” His eyes that were once closed with his mouth in a tight smile opened and stared directly at Noiz. The smile stayed on his lips, but his eyes were serious and unwavering. He didn’t blink. “You know, since we’re such good guys.”

Noiz realized that he was slowly being cornered where two brick walls met behind him. Taking the last bite of his sweet bun, he crumpled the plastic packaging and shoved it in his pocket. He licked the stray icing off his fingers without breaking eye contact with the two men. They were both seriously eyeing him down.

“Not really.”

Little thug’s eyebrows twitched in frustration. Noiz’s concise remarks and extraneously laid-back attitude generally made people feel that way. Frustrated, that is-- usually paired with the feeling of wanting to sock him right in his nose. It was suprising that they hadn't done that already.

“Anything else we can offer?”

“Probably not.” Noiz swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Really…” He moved suddenly, going to Noiz’s right side. On guard, Noiz turned to face him with his fists bared. And before he could move to react, a pair of hands landed on his chest. They rubbed up to his collarbones and back down, slowly tugging the material of his hoodie with them. “Not something like this?”

Noiz didn’t move. He kept his calm demeanor, which probably wasn’t a good idea, considering how much it was pissing the two thugs off. “And what the hell is this supposed to be?”

The man in front smirked and pushed Noiz backwards by his chest, forcing him into the beefier man who had moved to stand on the opposite side of his partner. A pair of hands gripped his ass from behind, and Noiz’s body jerked forward out of the touch, only to end up falling into the man in front of him. He grunted, pinned between the two thugs. He didn’t like being so closely surrounded. It was a suffocating feeling. Noiz pushed the shoulders in front of him, but a pair of strong hands pushed him right back, feeling up his chest and trapping him against the larger form behind him. Noiz kept his breathing steady as he checked for an escape route, and he noticed that there was no one else on the street. Not like anyone would help him out, anyway. Not there.

He let out a choked gasp when something wet slid across the curve of his neck. A tongue. He shivered and breathed out when the sensation returned.

“Like that, do ya’?” The man in front chuckled, stroking Noiz’s chest through his shirt. The man behind him continued silently licking strips of saliva along his neck, stopping to suck and bite down hard at his bare skin all the way down to his shoulder. Noiz shut his eyes and grit his teeth in irritation. He felt like he was going to throw up that cinnamon roll he just ate.

Determined, Noiz swung his head back with all the force he could muster up and it collided with the bigger man’s face. There was a sharp crack of his nose breaking, and the hands gripping his ass left with a groan. He swung one leg forward to nail the other man in the crotch with his shin, and he immediately fell onto his knees with a string of curses. Still carrying the momentum of his last blow, Noiz brought his knee forward, smashing the man in the face and sending him flying back onto the concrete. There was another crack of bone breaking.

Putting all of his strength into his arms and his weight on his legs, Noiz pulled the arm of the man behind him over his shoulder, and the rest of his body followed suit. The bigger thug landed face-up on top of his partner on the ground.

Without turning to look back, Noiz walked away from the scene, but when he heard the staggering footsteps of the thugs, he took off into a sprint and darted down an alley, trying to lose them by taking swift turns every time he had the chance. While running, he grazed the back of his head that he used to smash one of the brutes’ noses with his fingers. Noiz only felt a dull pain. He was always pretty thick-skinned.

His feet hit the ground with heavy, unbalanced steps. He hooked into another alleyway and hopped a fence that blocked his path, using a trash can for leverage. It tipped over just as Noiz jumped over, its contents spilling in the alley with a large clatter. On the other side of the fence, Noiz hoped that it didn’t draw too much attention to where he was. He couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore. He slid down to the ground with his back against the fence, resting his hands on his knees. His arm felt lighter than it should.

Shit, his bag.

He couldn’t remember when he dropped it. Noiz rubbed his face with a sweaty hand and leaned into his elbow. He was getting pretty tired of this bullshit.

When word got around that Noiz used to dabble in drugs back in his earlier days, people tried to trade a tune-up for a dose or two of whatever they could get their hands on. Mechanics that were fairly skilled with many forms of repair weren’t revered or anything, just pretty rare, and if an alternative to cash was available, most people took advantage of that route. Noiz eventually quit doing drugs, of course, under Aoba’s persistent urging. Even so, it wasn't long until his fanboys heard that he was into guys from an unknown source, and since then, they found a whole new way for coercing Noiz into an… agreement. Unlike the deal they were hoping for, however, Noiz was neither cheap nor easy. They couldn’t seem to get that through their heads, though.

Noiz steadily sighed, staring straight ahead while he caught is breath until something suspicious caught his eye.

A body lying face-down in the damp alley-- Something suspicious, indeed. Noiz hesitantly lifted himself to his feet and took a few steps toward the figure to examine the situation.

It was a man—Noiz could tell from his size, stature, and hands that were extended above his head, both clenched in firm fists. They were covered in blood stains, but Noiz didn't pay much attention to that. Perfectly white hair covered most of his neck, and underneath, it looked like there were words written on his skin. He brushed the hair away, noting how cold the man’s skin was before leaning in closer to the body. Along the back of his neck read “ _R-2E-054_ ” in black ink.

People had weird tattoos these days. But Noiz wasn’t one to judge someone’s ink without knowing it’s meaning, so he ignored it and rocked back on his heels and sighed. There weren't any signs of identification on him, and he didn't respond when Noiz shook him up a little.

He considered leaving the man there, but he would feel guilty at least until the next morning. He weighed the penalties of carrying a possibly drunk and dangerous stranger into his home and workspace. He looked at the body on the ground. His skin seemed a little roughed up, marked with what looked like bruises and dirt stains. His clothes were also pretty torn and dirtied, and he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

Noiz sighed again. Aoba was rubbing off on him way too much.

He leaned the man’s body against the fence and crouched down in front of him, pulling his limp arms over his shoulders. With a heavy breath and the strength from his satisfaction of his good deed, he hoisted the man on his back, leaning forward to balance his body. He realized that although the unconscious man beat him in size, he was still pretty light. He easily jostled him higher on to his back in a comfortable position. He couldn’t sense any movement or rising of his chest, and started to wonder if the man he was carrying on his back was already dead, but he threw those thoughts out of his head. He definitely wasn't doing something like this only to find out that the person he helped was already long gone.

Noiz continued the walk home through the alleys, trying to be more inconspicuous than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is sort of an introduction chapter, the others will hopefully have more content with a bigger look into the characters and the story
> 
> this is my first fic so thank you for reading! (• ε •)


	2. Chapter 2

It had been about twelve hours since Noiz carried the unconscious stranger on his back from the alley into his shop. He hadn’t moved since. He just lay on the couch, his long legs propped up over the armrest. Noiz didn’t try to wake him up or get him to move while he was doing his work, but every time he glanced up the man was in the same position that Noiz left him in. When the clock finally hit seven, Noiz got up from his workbench, pulled off his gloves, and walked over to the sofa. He didn’t really feel concerned for the man, it would just be really inconvenient for him to have some dead guy on his couch.

He kneeled at the edge of the sofa, taking a moment to look him over. Noiz figured that trying to wake him up was a no-go, mostly because he’d almost dropped the guy close to five times on the way to his shop and when he laid him down on the couch, the back of his head smacked into the armrest. His best bet was probably just checking for a pulse, so he brought two fingers up to his neck, brushing away some strands of white hair. There was no pounding under his fingers that Noiz could feel, but when he brushed some of the hair out of the way, something stood out to him.

At the edge of his jaw, there were several black spots dotting his pale skin. Noiz felt the area with his fingers until he realized that the black spots weren’t on his skin, they were under it. The skin—or whatever it was-- on the man’s face had chipped away. His hand jerked away and clenched into a fist at the realization. He breathed and brushed more of the man’s hair off to the side, revealing the discoloration all the way up to his temple. It looked like something sharp had pierced the side of his head and dragged its way down.

This guy obviously wasn’t human.

Noiz curiously brought his hands back to the stranger’s face, this time pressing his fingers firmly and directly on the dark material. It was cold and hard; probably some kind of metal. The area near the temple was torn open, but the rest of the structure of his “skull” didn’t seem to be damaged. Noiz inspected the hole in his temple. Inside, it looked like something was snapped in half. Curious, he carefully pulled it out, being sure not to cut himself on the edges of the metal. What he extracted looked familiar to him, but since it was destroyed from the impact of whatever was thrust into it, he couldn’t really be sure. But he was fairly confident that he knew what the man was.

He pushed on the man lightly, turning him on his side so his back was facing Noiz. Noiz slowly pushed up his thin shirt and ran his fingers up his back until he felt a protrusion in the skin. He swallowed when he lifted up something that felt like a panel on the man’s back. All of his actions were based on assumptions, of course, so the fact that he actually found something like that was surprising to him.

The panel wasn’t stiff, like the hood of a car, but pliable, most likely so the man’s back could bend as easily as a human’s could. By now, Noiz was already way past the assumption that this stranger was a machine of some sort. All of the evidence was literally right in front of him. Unless he was hallucinating or something, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t the case.

Underneath the panel was what looked like some parts of the anatomy of a human—a spine ran down the length of his back and some ribs came off of it and wrapped around to the front of the chest. But the “bones” were made out of the same kind of metal that was under the skin of the man’s face, and several wires were strewn about on the inside of them. Some were snapped and frayed in the middle, and some were charred black. It looked like something inside of the man went haywire and wrought havoc on his whole system. If it didn’t get taken care of soon, however, the system would probably be unrepairable. It didn’t look like something Noiz couldn’t fix right away, though.

Noiz paused midway when straightening up to head for his toolbox. He looked back at the figure lying on his couch and questioned his motives. It wasn’t like him to go to such great lengths to help anything. In any other circumstance, Noiz would have gone through the machine for usable parts. But for some reason, Noiz felt a weird attachment to the humanoid machine in front of him—maybe because he was curious of his origin or he legitimately wanted to make him function again.

Noiz shook those thoughts out of his head and reasoned to himself that he was just taking on a challenge. He was just testing his skills, and that was it.  
With his toolbox in his hands, the mechanic got to work on suturing the broken wires and replacing any that were completely shot. He was running low on supplies because he had dropped the ones he bought from Heibon in his encounter with those thugs, but he got through all of the damaged cords by using the resources he had sparingly. He could always go back and fix them again later when he restocked—

Noiz stopped again. He rubbed his forehead, trying to comprehend what he just thought. What did he mean by “go back and fix them again later?” He wasn’t thinking straight. It was probably just because of the excitement of having something new to work on. He hadn’t gotten an interesting job in a long time.

Clearing his thoughts again, he pulled a few strands of his hair and shut the panel on the man’s back, pleased with his work. Now, he just had to deal with whatever had been damaged inside his skull. Noiz picked up the chip that he extracted earlier. He was positive that he had seen something like it before.

Looking around the room, Noiz reached out for a small, green and black cube on the floor when it came into his sight. It was one of his many Allmates: tiny, brightly colored cubes with a pixelated rabbit face on each side. Noiz used them as alarm clocks, surveillance cameras, and information seekers among many other things, so he had a large abundance of them at his disposal. He pried open one of the sides to reveal a similarly wired but much smaller system than inside the white-haired man. Within the mass of wires was something that looked similar to a memory card inserted into the central unit of the Allmate. Noiz pressed on the protruding end of the card and it shifted out into his hand.

Placing the rabbit cube to his side, he picked up the chip that he had set down earlier and compared it to the one that was in his hand. He could see distinct similarities between the damaged chip and the one from his Allmate. Noiz brought himself back up to the side of the man’s head again and peered inside the hole in his skull. There was a similar input slot where a human’s temple would be.

Noiz wondered if putting the operating chip from his Allmate into this man would make him function again. This chip controlled the main functions of the Allmate as well as tied it to its owner upon registration. The man and the allmate’s system layouts seemed similar, but the man’s was much more complex. Noiz’s Allmates were newer models, but their technology was nothing compared to that of the stranger’s. That fact just intrigued Noiz more.

With a firm decision, Noiz inserted the chip into the side of the man’s head with a muffled “click” and leaned back on his heels.

There was one minute of silence.

Then, there was a long and deep inhale, followed by a shallow and shaky exhale. The breaths didn’t come from Noiz. The figure twitched; Noiz stayed put, keeping his eyes on it.

Slowly but surely, the man straightened up on the couch and rubbed his eyes with two fists, just like a little kid waking up from a nap. His eyelids fluttered slowly until they completely opened, his light pink eyes slowly travelling across the room until they landed in Noiz, who was silently squatting in front of the couch.

Neither of them said anything and the silence filled the room again until Noiz opened his mouth.

“How do you feel?” His tone was low, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“Ah! I feel fine. A bit different than usual, but everything seems to be running smoothly.” All of the uncertainty that was on the man’s face disappeared when he spoke, as if he was waiting for Noiz’s question. He sat straight up, his hands perched on his knees in front of him. He had an extremely cheerful air about him, and Noiz cocked an eyebrow in intrigue.

Noiz scratched the back of his head. He wasn’t really sure where to go next with the conversation.

The man spoke up before Noiz could think of anything to say. “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead. I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Uhhh…” The man stalled, as if he was deciding which thought running through his head was most important. “Um, where exactly am I?”

“You’re in the north-eastern region of Midorijima,” Noiz stopped to point to his workspace behind him. “In my workshop.”

“Workshop..?” The man’s eyes widened. “Does that mean that you…” He trailed off at the end of his sentence.

“I repaired you.”

The man nodded slowly. He seemed to be taken aback by the situation. Noiz peered into his uncertain eyes.

“Let me be more precise,” Noiz said, standing up over the couch. “I found you, collapsed in an alleyway, brought you back here, examined you a little when you didn’t wake up, found out you were a machine, and fixed you with some stuff that I had lying around. Your control chip or whatever you call it was broken, so I replaced it with one of my Allmates’.”

“Why?”

Noiz blew a puff of air out of his nose. He asked himself that same question not too long ago. “I’m not too sure myself.”

The man nodded, taking in the information. He leaned over his knees with his hands clasped together for a moment until he sprung up to his feet, making Noiz step back in caution. His wide eyes glinted.

“Well,” He started in an excited voice, bringing his fists up to his chest, “I can do nothing now but thank you!” He bent into a perfect 90-degree bow in front of Noiz, his white hair flowing over his face as he moved. Noiz stood in unease until the man straightened up again.

“It’s no problem,” Noiz said, putting his hands in his pockets. He stopped to look at the man, who was letting his eyes explore aimlessly around the room with a small grin on his face—another thing that made Noiz realize how childlike he was. “I guess… that you can go on your way now.” The corners of the man’s mouth dropped, and he looked right at Noiz.

“I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

That didn’t surprise Noiz—he was just taken aback by how bluntly he admitted it. “I don’t really know what to tell you.” He scratched at the side of his nose with his finger.

The white-haired man fumbled with his thumbs for a second, then opened his mouth to speak and instead breathing out quickly yet heavily. Noiz just impatiently watched him, waiting with his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t…I don’t really want to be an inconvenience to you, after doing all this for me and being so…calm about it,” The man started, moving his fingers around nervously, like he was about to explode if he didn’t exercise at least one appendage. “You’re the only person who knows I’m out here, much less knows I’m a machine, and this is just a thought, but—“

“You want to stay here with me.” Noiz cut the man off in a disinterested tone.

“How’d you guess..?”

“What else could you have said?”

The man went silent for a second, then looked at Noiz with a serious face. It didn’t really fit him, and Noiz almost wanted to laugh. “In any case, please consider it.”

“What’s going to be in it for me? I already took you out of that alley, watched over you all day, and used my own supplies to fix you. I’m not exactly earning anything from this situation.”

“You didn’t exactly have to do all of that—“

“Well sorry, then,” Noiz scoffed, pulling his eyebrows together into a childish frown. The other man didn’t seem to notice, and kept talking.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. And I don’t intend to let your actions go unrewarded, because I owe you more than my life. So, just…” The man looked around the room, his wandering eyes not once landing on Noiz, who was waiting in silence. He scratched his hairline with his nails, then pressed his forehead into his palm until he noticed the white-haired man asking him a question. “Do you work alone? In this workshop, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I could work with you. Or for you, whichever you prefer.”

“I’m assuming that you don’t have any prior mechanical engineering knowledge.”

“No… no, it wasn’t programmed into me. But I can do other things! Like run errands, help with heavy lifting, cook, clean, all of that.”

“You wanna be my maid?” Noiz let out a little laugh. “And you think that’s going to repay your debt?”

The man stood in silence, looking down at his feet. It was obvious that that proposal was all he could offer. Noiz rubbed his forehead again, as if it would help him figure out all the unnatural thoughts running through his head—and one spilled out of his mouth before his internal pity filter could stop it.

“You better be pretty good at cooking, then.”

Immediately, the man’s head lifted, bright pink eyes staring widely at Noiz in disbelief.

“You…” His words stopped like something got caught in his throat, and his half-open mouth curved into a smile as his body flew forward into Noiz. His strong arms wrapped around Noiz’s body faster than he could move to defend himself, and the cheerful robot gripped him in a tight hug, lifting him off the ground. “Thank you so much!”

“You have three seconds to put me the fuck down.”

Noiz was back on the ground again, staring up at the white-haired man who was nervously playing with his hair, the look of relief and ecstasy still on his face. From this close, Noiz could finally see that the other man beat him in height by a few inches.

“So—“

Noiz cut him off. “Do you have a name?”

The man paused briefly, as if trying to register what he meant. “Oh! I have my identification number here on my neck,” he said, lifting his white hair off of his nape.

“No, I mean a name. If you’re staying with me, I’m not going to refer to you by a number. I’m impersonal, but not that impersonal.”

“I wasn’t given a name—“

“Shh!” Noiz held a finger up to his lips, then put his hand to his chin in concentration.

“What?“

“I said shut up.” The man went silent as instructed, patiently waiting as Noiz stared at him, examining his features. The man didn't seem to be embarrassed by the piercing eyes looking him over or the silence that filled the room until Noiz spoke. “You can go by Clear. That’s what I’ll call you.”

“Huh?”

“Clear, because you’re transparent. I can see right through you.”

There was another awkward stillness for a moment before Clear gave a huge grin and clapped his hands together.

“I love it!”

Noiz stared with a blank expression. “…You’re not frustrated that I gave you a name based off a pun..?”

“No, I’ve never even had a name before. So I’m really fine with anything, but it’s even better that you gave it to me.”

“That’s an embarrassing thing to say—“

“Ah! What should I call you, then? ‘Boss’ or ‘Master’ or something like that?”

Noiz laughed silently at Clear’s obliviousness, pulling his palm down his cheek. He didn't think he would be able to handle being called 'Master' every day, especially not by that guy. “No… no. That’s fine. Just call me Noiz.”

“Ok then, Noiz.” Clear’s light pink eyes lowered, and his wide smile softened on his face. “Thank you. For everything.”

Noiz stared at the fluffy mass of white hair in front of him and the body it belonged to, wondering what about it made him feel more lenient and generous than usual. When he found the bright set of eyes and the dangerously wide smile facing him again, he turned away to the stairs at a lazy pace, gesturing the other man to follow.

“Whatever. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops this chapter is a little slow thanks for staying tuned


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast the next morning was a shared plate of two reheated pancakes and one egg over easy. Noiz set the dish down on the table before going over to the couch that Clear had knocked out on the night before.

Prior to going to bed, Noiz forced his new roommate out of his dirty, ragged clothes and found an oversized V-neck sweater and a pair of sweatpants that fit Clear pretty tightly. He seemed happy enough with the outfit and put it on after wiping the dirt smudges from his skin with a damp washcloth, with Noiz taking care of the spots on the back that he couldn’t reach. By that time it was pretty late at night, and Clear volunteered to sleep on the couch despite the fact that his long legs dangled off the side over the armrest.

Noiz ground his knuckles into the mass of white hair that fell over Clear’s face, giving an effective noogie that shook him from his sleep. Clear’s hand flew up and grabbed the fist assaulting his head as a reflex before noticing who it was, and his stiff grip relaxed slightly.

“Breakfast is ready,” Noiz mumbled, jerking his hand away from Clear’s grip and turning back around. Clear just hummed in response, lifting himself off the couch and following Noiz. The two sat in front of the pitiful plate of food before Noiz jerked up from his spot. “Uh… forgot forks.”

He rustled around in a bag on the counter before returning to the table with two plastic forks and slid one across the surface to Clear.

“Sorry I don’t have much, I wasn’t really expecting company.”

“It’s fine. I actually don’t really need to eat,” Clear explained, twirling the fork between his fingers.

“…So you can if you want to?”

“Yeah, I don’t need to digest nutrients like humans do, but since I was built to fit into human life, I do have a waste disposal system, so I can eat if I want to.”

“Oh.” It was silent for a few seconds before Noiz gestured to the plate of food with his fork. “So that means I can eat this myself?”

“Of course!”

Noiz nodded and wordlessly started cutting up the food on the plate with his fork, then crammed the bits of spongy pancake and lukewarm egg into his mouth. It felt a bit odd for him to be the only one eating, especially with Clear’s soft gaze staying glued to him. He swallowed a mouthful of water to clear his throat before speaking again.

“So, where exactly did you come from?”

“Sorry?” Clear tilted his head to the side, his concentration on the plate of food breaking.

“I asked where you came from. Do you know your manufacturer?”

Clear’s eyes shifted downwards and his lips parted as the warm smile vanished from his face.

 It was obvious that that was a touchy subject, even if Noiz did have somewhat of a right to know who he was made by and why, since he was giving the guy a place to live and a job. But he dropped the subject as quickly as he brought it up and and continued to fiddle with the food on his plate until he broke the silence again.

“Do you have a dick?”

“… What?” Clear was shaken from his thoughts and the question was still registering in his head.

“You said you were made to integrate into human life,” Noiz explained, lifting the last forkful of egg into his mouth. “If you have a penis built onto you, you might even be one of those sex robots that lonely rich people shell out tons of money for.”

“U-uh… I do, but I’m… I’m positive that I’m not!” Clear stuttered, his hands gripping the table in front of him. Noiz noticed his embarrassment and shrugged it off. That reaction was at least a little bit better than the one from his previous question. Clear’s eyes flashed nervously across the room, then over to Noiz, then back down to his lap, where they stayed until Noiz finished the rest of his meal, smiling slightly to himself in amusement.

* * *

A little while after breakfast, Noiz quickly jotted down another list of materials he needed to pick up after exhausting his already weak supply on fixing Clear. He wasn’t happy to be wasting money since his living expenses were already low, but he didn’t really want to retrace his steps along the alleys to find the bag he had dropped the day before. It wasn’t like it would still be there, anyway.

“I’ll be back, Clear, I just have to pick up some supplies from the store,” Noiz said, slipping some worn-down sneakers on at the door. He was still in his work clothes from the previous night and didn’t bother with at least changing his shirt. “Don’t get into anything.”

“Ah! Wait, I’ll come with you,” Clear said, half-skipping to the door. “Just in case you need help.”

With no real hesitation, Noiz nodded and headed out the door, leaving Clear to follow behind him, his feet padding lightly on the rough concrete. Neither of them spoke, but Clear hummed a gentle tune from his throat as they walked along, and Noiz felt himself drawn into the song. Before he knew it, they were standing in front of the entrance to Heibon.

“Okay, we’re here. Let’s try to make it quick. If there’s anything you need, let me know,” Noiz said, walking through the automatic doors. The usual low chime rang out and the two stepped into the store.

“Noiz?” Aoba’s voice came from the front counter. “Back so soon? It’s strange to see you in here so often.”

“Yeah, I kind of got mixed up in something and lost what I bought yesterday. I’ll just take another stock of what I bought then.” Aoba nodded with a smile and turned around to the supply cabinet. Noiz tapped his fingers on the counter, looking around at the store—Clear wasn’t anywhere in sight, but Noiz overlooked that and turned back to Aoba. “Koujackoff’s not here today, huh?”

Aoba turned to the register with Noiz’s purchase in his hands and a smirk on his face. “So you did give him a nickname? I’m sure he’ll be flattered.”

“If you tell him I swear I’ll—“

Noiz was cut off by a loud crash at the back of the store. Aoba almost immediately stomped out from behind the counter toward the aisle that the sound came from.

“If those brats are in here making a mess, I’m going to make a mess of them,” Aoba said, clenching his fists as Noiz followed behind him. “Kids these days have no respect for the—eh?”

Noiz pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation and sighed heavily at the sight of Clear laying on the ground underneath a pile of various assorted snack bags and soda bottles. Clear let out a soft groan as he craned his neck to the side, turning to see Noiz and Aoba standing over him.

He quickly scurried out from beneath the mass of fallen food and drinks, trying to gather as much as he could in his arms and put it back on the shelf.

“I-I’m so sorry! I really should have been more careful there, I’m—“

Aoba’s hand laid softly on Clear’s arm and removed the two liter from his hands. He smiled softly despite his irritation and Clear relaxed.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Just be careful next time.”

“Aoba, don’t coddle him,” Noiz said, stepping forward slightly. “He’s an adult, he should know better than to run off like a child and make a complete fucking mess.” He shot a glare at Clear, who pouted his lip slightly. Aoba frowned and put the bottle back on the shelf.

“Don’t tell me how to treat strangers, Noiz. Actually, why haven’t you introduced me?”

“Right, yeah. Aoba, this is Clear. He’s going to be staying with me for a while.”

Aoba tilted his head to the side, showing obvious suspicion of Noiz and Clear’s relationship. Especially considering the contrast between the two and the lack of Noiz's usual hostility.

“Noiz found me, saw that I was broken, and fixed me up,” Clear said, smiling at Aoba. “I’m very grateful for that, so I don’t mind if he’s tough on me.”

Aoba did a double take.

“…Broken?”

Before Clear could say anything more, Noiz interjected. “He means that he was sick. I found him passed out in the alley with a high fever, so I took him back to my place to get better.”

“That’s not like you, Noiz,” Aoba said, mockingly. He turned his back on the pair and started walking towards the counter again.  Noiz quickly hit Clear on the arm while Aoba was turned around and shushed him with a scowl before he could whine. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up. Here’s your order.”

Noiz walked to the counter and grabbed the bag, just about to whip out his wallet before Aoba stopped him.

“It’s on me today. Since it looks like you have enough on your hands already.”

“I’m not asking you to pity me. I’m gonna pay.”

“I’m not trying to pity you,” Aoba pleaded, “I’m just helping you out. Now get going before I make you pay double what that costs.”

Noiz scoffed, but walked out of the store with the bag as Clear followed behind him wordlessly. He walked with a quick pace, scowling angrily as he went. Clear quickly picked up on his irritation.

“Noiz, what is it?”

“I don’t like owing people favors.”

Clear said nothing in response, just pondered the answer for a minute and spat out more questions. “Why did you hit me in there? And why did you lie to Aoba?”

Noiz slowed down and walked beside Clear. “What, you mean when you were about to tell him that you’re a robot? Idiot.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“I hate to break it to you, but human robots aren’t that common. Animal robots are, but you’re a completely different breed,” Noiz said. “Listen. I know you won’t tell me who made you, but they obviously had some specific intentions, even though I can’t fathom what they are. But you can’t go around telling people what you are. It’s not normal. It’ll cause a commotion, and neither of us need that. You get me?”

Clear didn't respond and gazed forward as they walked, his eyes wandering in and out of focus with his lips slightly parted. He either looked solemn or completely out of it, but Noiz doubted that he was even listening to him. “Hey, did you even get any of that—“

“...I’m not normal?” Clear asked softly, cutting his question short.

“What? No, you’re not. I thought I made that obvious.”

There was a still silence between the two after the “Ah, I see” that came from Clear’s lips and the gentle smile that spread across his face to show that he understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop. this was awkward to write. but i did it. thanks for being patient!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost too silent in the evening, aside from the heavy, exasperated sighs coming from across the main floor of the apartment. Noiz sat at his work bench, the screens from his coil lighting up in front of him as he casually toyed with the data of his Allmate that usually served as an alarm clock. Behind him, Clear laid face-down on the couch with his head shoved underneath of a pillow and his legs dangling over the armrest.

He pulled the pillow closer before letting out another sigh, to which Noiz closed his coil screens and immediately spun around in his seat.

“What’s your problem?”

He didn’t mean it to be harsh, but it came across that way.

Clear turned his torso on the couch, still hugging the pillow to the back of his head, but supporting himself with one arm to look at Noiz across the room. He didn’t say anything, but the pitiful look on his face spoke for him.

“You’ve been sighing for hours since we went out,” Noiz started, shuffling the rabbit cube around with his fingers. “Tell me why.”

Clear didn’t hesitate at Noiz’s confrontation.

“You said I’m not normal.”

“What?”

“When we were walking back from the store, I asked you if I was normal. And you said it was obvious that I wasn’t.” Clear rubbed his nose with his sleeve with a little sniffle.

He knew that he was different from others—everyone else was made up of organic matter, while he was the shell of a human constructed of multiple kinds of metals and bolts, programmed to be sentient and act like a normal human. And Clear was trying his hardest to do so as best as a machine could.

“And… that’s why you’re unhappy right now.”

“Mmhm.”

“Fucking idiot,” Noiz said, chucking his Allmate at Clear, who quickly pulled the pillow further over his head to block it. It clattered to the floor with a little chirp.

“What was that for?!”

“That’s a shitty reason to be upset.”

“And why’s that?” Clear was sitting on the edge of the couch defensively, holding the pillow firm in his hands. He knew his emotions weren’t entirely human, but he had validation for them.

“No one’s normal, idiot,” Noiz said, getting off his seat. He took a few slow steps over to the couch where Clear was sitting. “No one gives a shit if you’re not normal, because everyone’s insane in their own weird little ways.”

“Aoba seems pretty normal, though,” Clear said, burying his fingers into the pillow.

“You barely know the guy. And anyone who wants to fuck that asshole Koujaku isn’t normal.”

Clear let out a light giggle.

“You’re so vulgar, Noiz! I don’t even know who that is.” He lowered his face again, thinking on Noiz’s words. “I guess you’re right... Thank you for reassuring me.”

“Alright, alright. Just quit being such a sap and let up on the pillow. You’re gonna pull the seams apart if you keep gripping it like that.”

Noiz swiped the pillow from Clear’s hands, giving him a pat on the top of his head with it, smiling a bit to himself for a second, but then tossed the pillow back on the couch almost as quickly as it got in his hands.

He was doing that thing again. Sympathizing or whatever-- actually going out of his way to fix his offenses and make someone feel better. He glanced up at Clear, who was making his way toward the kitchen.

There was definitely something about him that was different than everyone else Noiz had encountered.

“Hey, how about I make something for dinner? I’m thinking chicken fried rice,” He said, pulling out a single can of chicken and a package of minute rice from the Noiz’s small food supply.

“You can cook?” Noiz asked.

“Of course I can,” Clear responded, looking in the cupboards. “I was programmed to be good at basically everything a normal person is just mediocre at. Basically, I would be the perfect boyfriend.”

“Uh, yeah, you definitely would,” Noiz said absently, his eyes drawn suddenly to the flashing inbox notification that appeared out of his coil.

 **(1)** **New Message**

He tapped the holographic screen with his fingertips, scowling when he saw the name of the sender.

“Hey, dinner will have to wait a little,” Noiz said, closing out the monitor of his coil and slipping quickly into his shoes, not bothering to pull the backs of them over his heels. “I’ve got to go out.”

“What, is it a job? Should I go with you?”

“Kind of, but it’s more of a personal errand, I guess… Just stay here, I’ll be back. And you better have that chicken fried rice waiting for me.”

“Hurry back, then! It’s your own fault if your meal is cold,” Clear said, calling after Noiz as he left through the front door. He rested his elbows on the counter, his tall stature leaning over the fake marble surface.

 

* * *

 

Noiz was pissed. Mostly at himself for leaving right after being offered a meal that might actually be good, but he felt like he had the right to blame it on the other party involved.

If he wasn’t a professional businessperson, bent on helping his customers as quickly as possible (mostly just to get the job out of the way) he wouldn’t be tramping down the sidewalk at 7:30 at night, his hood pulled over his unkempt hair and his shoes barely staying on his feet.

Actually, the job could’ve waited until the morning, but for some reason, Noiz felt inclined to interrupt himself from everything he was doing and make his way to the Northern Disctrict of Midorijima after the sun had already gone down.

He could have been eating chicken fried rice with Mr. Perfect Boyfriend, but instead he was going to see _him_.

And just a few minutes ago, he was calling Clear a fucking idiot.

The air outside chilled him a little, but it was somewhat better than his poorly ventilated apartment. A walk was probably something he needed—he was letting his work that airheaded robot get to him too much.

 

* * *

 

As always, the Northern District was just run-down building after run-down building, each claimed by some kind of gang or drug circle or whatever other kind of illicit organization had gathered there. Noiz passed by the looming and damaged concrete buildings, hoping to avoid any contact with any other person than the one he came to see.

If possible, he would like to avoid contact with him too.

When he finally got to his destination—a building marked with a spray-painted rainbow with black splotches around it—Noiz found that not encountering people would prove to be a little difficult.

The members of Scratch, the gang that hung out in that building, were scattered around the interior—playing cards, drinking, or just hanging out, shitfaced, probably because they just got wasted on some intense illegal drug. There were a few people that Noiz recognized from his previous visits, some new faces, and some members that were missing for whatever reason. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.

“Is Mink in?” Noiz asked, turning to one of the members leaning on the wall.”

“Yeah, he’s in the back room.”

 _Damn,_ Noiz thought to himself. It seemed he was going to have to run into him whether he wanted to or not. He contemplated coming back later, but then pushed that idea aside at the thought of having to walk all the way through the Northern District again. A safe trip through there was not always guaranteed.

When he got into the back room of the building, his customer was sitting on his patchy armchair, smoking his pipe.

“I didn’t expect you to come so soon.” His voice was low and rumbling, sucked in by the bare concrete walls. He barely shifted on his chair to look at Noiz, who was setting down his bag of tools on the floor.

“Figured I’d get it out of the way as soon as possible,” Noiz said, walking over to a scratched-up black motorcycle on the far corner of the room that had an exit to the outside. “I like to keep my weekends open and not spend them in the most dangerous part of the island. The problem is with this motorcycle?”

“Yeah, the headlight’s not working. I need to be out at night, and you know I like to drive safely,” Mink said, taking another drag of his pipe. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice—not like you could tell if there was, anyway.

Noiz just scoffed and walked over to inspect the headlight.

“This is a seriously simple headlight problem. It just needs a little rewiring; did you really have to call me in for this?”

“Your work is quality. I don’t like to bother with people I can’t trust.”

“…Yeah.”

Noiz pulled out the old, burnt, and frayed wires out, not bothering to ask how they got so messed up, then replaced him with a few from his bag before putting the headlight back in place. He started up the motorcycle to test them, and the light flashed on. With a sigh, he pulled a few extra wires from his bag and tossed them at Mink, who was still sitting and smoking his pipe.

“I’ll leave those with you so you can fix your own damn headlight next time,” Noiz said, picking his toolbag up off the floor. As he turned to leave out the door, a large, tan arm blocked his exit.

“…What.”

Noiz craned his neck upward to look at Mink, who finally moved from his seat. His face was serious as always-- his piercing eyes bored holes through Noiz. It was like he was perpetually frowning. Noiz didn’t know how someone could hold such a gruff demeanor for such an extended period of time, but he assumed that that’s how someone would have to act to run a gang. But Noiz had already seen him in other situations, so that “bad guy” look didn’t scare him.

“Who’s that white haired guy you’ve been hanging out with?”

He lifted a suspicious eyebrow at Mink, then laughed from his throat.

“How did you even know that? You got your baddies out watching me, Mink?”

Mink tightened his glare at the shorter boy below him. “…No. One of my guys just happened to see you and reported back to me,” He said, turning his head to look away from Noiz. “I don’t have any reason to send people out to watch you.”

 _Of course he doesn’t have a reason_ , Noiz thought. He was just interrogating him about who he was hanging out with because he “didn’t care.” Well, Noiz could have really cared less about what Mink felt. The guy was just always trying to make himself superior with his burly stature and his long, scary pipe. Noiz didn’t owe him anything.

“Yeah? So why do you even care?”

When Mink said nothing, Noiz cleared his throat, glaring at the arm that stood between him and the door.  Mink hesitated before letting his arm fall back to his side.

Without another look at the Mink, Noiz slid past him and out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments, i wish i had more time to work on this :-( 
> 
> it's getting there slowly, but i am glad you guys like it so far!!


	5. Chapter 5

It had been about 3 weeks since Noiz agreed to let Clear live with him, and he was already getting way too used to it.

Usually, Noiz worked at home during the day, and Clear would just lay around and read Noiz’s books on mechanics (more like skim through and look for nifty pictures of all the cool technical blueprints), or watch whatever was on television—usually the news, some kind of cooking show, or a soap opera for middle-aged women. When Noiz did go out, however, he was always greeted when he got back with a “Welcome home!” and a giddy smile from Clear at the door; sometimes dinner, too, if he was out late enough.

Noiz had received a couple of emails from Mink through the weeks, but none of them were work-related, so he deleted most of them right away. But one in particular talked about Clear—Mink implied that he had something on him; that there was something Noiz should watch out for about him, just in case. And somehow Mink knew about it, but not Noiz. He figured it was just another lure to get him into the Northern District for whatever reason, but he was going to have to be persuaded pretty strongly if he was going back into the Northern District under his own consent.

Noiz just ignored the email like the rest of them.

There were times when Clear insisted on going out with Noiz, like if he was shopping for groceries, picking up parts from Heibon (too see Aoba, who had gotten pretty fond of Clear and his antics), or if it was really late at night and Clear just wanted to make sure that Noiz was safe. Of course, Noiz insisted that he could handle himself, but he actually felt better with Clear around. Not like he was going to tell him that, though.

Clear even started eating with Noiz, though he technically didn’t have to. Clear refused at first, saying that he didn’t want to cause any more trouble, but Noiz wasn’t having it.

“You make enough food for two people most of the time, right? Then you should eat with me,” Noiz had said to Clear, who depositing a container of leftovers from dinner into the fridge. “It feels awkward when I’m the only one.”

Through their time together, Clear had figured out what Noiz had liked to eat the most and made it when he felt like Noiz was in a bad mood. He told Noiz that he wanted him to be so hooked on the meals he prepared that he would never be able to go back to microwaveable food. Noiz accused him, jokingly, of course, of trying to make him reliant on Clear, like some kind of child that couldn’t go to school without his mother packing lunch for him. But Clear took it too seriously and immediately refuted, saying that he just wanted to make sure Noiz was eating right.

Noiz noticed that Clear had started getting tenser lately, whether it was jumping to conclusions about things Noiz had said or just overreacting in certain situations.

It was just some of the time that Clear acted like that, though; other times he was as oblivious and airheaded at usual, but that made Noiz wonder if something was wrong.

“Hey brobot, time for a checkup,” Noiz said, holding his toolbox out in front of him before sitting on the couch beside Clear. “Take off your shirt.”

“Why a checkup?” Clear asked. He pulled his shirt off over his head anyway and held it bundled up in his lap.

“It’s been about a month, so I just figured that I would see if there are any problems. If I can figure out how to open the panel on your back again…”

Noiz placed his fingers on the small of Clear’s back so that he could search his skin for the opening to the panel that he found before. But Clear flinched at his touch, leaning forward just slightly. Noiz retreated immediately, looking to Clear’s face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, just… your hands are kind of cold,” Clear muttered.

“Should I get my gloves?”

“No, I’m fine now.”

“Don’t be so jumpy this time then.”

Noiz pressed his hand again on Clear’s skin, and this time he didn’t lean forward, but Noiz still checked his face for any sign of discomfort. He slowly slid his hand up to the right of his spine, feeling around for an uneven spot in the skin. He felt the familiar protrusion, pressed on it lightly, and pulled up on the panel to reveal Clear’s operating core.

“Woah,” Clear mumbled under his breath. “Feels weird.”

“I didn’t think that you’d feel this, but I guess it kinda makes sense, huh?” Noiz peeked around inside, checking for any disruptions in the wires or spots that seemed overheated. When everything checked out, he sighed a little.

“Everything good, then?” Clear asked, craning his head as far as he could to look at Noiz over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Noiz answered, looking again into Clear’s back. “I used lower-grade wires than the ones that were used when you were made, so I was kind of worried that they would burn out and I would either have to replace them or reinforce them. But they seem fine, so--” He took one of the wires between his finger and his thumb and rubbed it gently.

Clear jerked forward, a strangled sound coming from his throat, but Noiz still held on to the wire. He muttered something into his shirt.

“What was that?” Noiz asked, kneeling on the couch and bending over closer to Clear.

“Please let go of that,” Clear mumbled, his voice slightly trembling.

Noiz smirked, looking at the wire in his hand. He rubbed his thumb along the protective surface curiously, tightening his grip a little as he did.

At that, Clear shot upward, his back arching forward as he tried to suppress another chuckle. He stretched his arm behind him to grab at Noiz’s wrist, but Noiz twisted out of the way and he couldn’t reach.

“Noiz…!”

“What, are you ticklish because of these?” Noiz questioned, still smirking. “That’s pretty peculiar.”

“Quit picking on me,” Clear groaned.

“I’m not picking on you, I’m just experimenting. Isn’t it better to face these sensations head on to get to the bottom of them?”

“Noiz, don’t--”

“Be a good boy and let the doctor examine you,” Noiz said, almost playfully, but mostly mockingly. He was having fun. “Remember that this is a checkup.”

When Noiz rubbed the wire again, Clear turned completely around, giggling again and gripping Noiz’s free arm. He still had the other one curled around Clear, reaching into his back.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No…“ Clear mumbled, squirming just a little.

“I’m just playing around,” Noiz said, looking straight at Clear. He balanced on his knees on the couch, one hand suspended in the air by Clear and the other carefully searching for another wire in Clear’s back. He brushed up against one, but Clear didn’t seem to notice the faint touch. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you purposefully, so lighten up.”

“But Noiz—“

“No buts, I said to relax. Are you gonna let go of me?” Noiz asked, gesturing to Clear gripping his wrist.

Clear just looked pensively downward, biting the inside of his cheek. In that moment of hesitation, Noiz grinned widely and wrapped his palm around the wire lightly, not enough to pull it out, but enough for Clear to feel it-- Clear’s eyes shot open as laughter bubbled from his throat, and he grabbed wildly for Noiz’s other arm, throwing both of them off balance when he pulled Noiz off of him.

With Clear’s weight pushing him, Noiz slid off the couch and fell to the floor, his back hitting the hard surface with a thud. He groaned a little, the pain of falling right on his back just getting to him, and looked up at Clear.

He was hovering over top of him, his hands still gripping his wrists, his lower body resting on Noiz’s legs. Noiz couldn’t see his face through the mop of white hair hanging down over it.

“Be careful, damn it,” Noiz said, turning his head to the side. He pulled on his wrist a little, but Clear’s grip wouldn’t budge. He wondered if he had pressed too many wrong buttons. “We could have crashed into the table or something.”

Clear lifted his head to look at Noiz. His eyes were narrow, and his breath was almost silent, but it was heavy at the same time. He stared at Noiz with a brooding look.

“Um,” Noiz swallowed, trying his wrists again. “This is kind of uncomfortable.”

Clear’s eyes shot open like he just realized the situation that they were in. He looked at the way he had Noiz pinned on the floor, straddling his waist and holding his arms down beside his head.

Almost immediately, he retreated from Noiz and stood next to the couch.

Noiz got up slowly, side-eyeing Clear as he leaned on the table to steady himself.

“…Sorry.” Clear wrung his wrists in front of himself, looking shameful as he stood as far as possible from Noiz.

“Don’t apologize, you idiot. I’m the one that went overboard.” Noiz picked up Clear’s shirt and tossed it at him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, your back’s still open.”

“Right, thanks…”

Clear pressed the panel into his back and pulled the shirt over his head, rolling the sleeves halfway up his arms once he did. Noiz’s eyes wandered up his back as Clear turned around and stopped on the numbers and letters tattooed on Clear’s neck. He still hadn’t asked about that. He wondered if he should.

“So… I should make dinner!” Clear went back to the kitchen, bending over to look in the fridge. Just like that, his personality switched back to normal. Noiz just deposited his toolbox back in his work area, his hand lingering on the handle. He looked up at Clear, who was working busily in the kitchen, then back down to his wrist, which was a red where Clear had grabbed him, then back up to Clear.

It was like nothing happened— like those few moments of persistent silence and tension were just in Noiz’s imagination, and Clear didn’t think anything of it. Or maybe he was just trying to play it off to make Noiz forget. Noiz wondered if he was overthinking it, himself. He tapped the counter lightly as he thought before suddenly spinning around and slipping on his shoes.

“Clear, I’m going out.”

“Why?”

“I’m just… I have an errand. I forgot. But I’ll be back for dinner.”

Clear just hummed in response as Noiz left out the front door. He stopped for a few seconds with his hand resting on the doorknob before he started walking.

He didn’t know where he was going; he just let his steps carry him forward, passing by buildings and people, not taking care to recognize the places or the faces. Just walking to where his feet took him.

And he wound up in front of Scratch’s hideout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH... uh
> 
> i had a little time to work on this since i had to stay home and let in the people fixing our stove and air conditioning and stuff, i even started working on the next chapter wOW
> 
> thanks for all the comments, you are too good to me


	6. Chapter 6

Noiz really considered turning back. He really didn’t have any reason for being there again, in the Northern district of Midorijima, right in front of the hideout of one of the most intimidating gangs on the island.

But for whatever reason, he just walked right inside like he owned the place.

Well, not really. He didn’t bother to make eye contact with anyone scattered about the hallway, and the sound of his footsteps were small among the deep laughter and chatter. Everyone in Scratch had such low voices. Maybe it was a requirement for joining or something. Noiz didn’t know. He just kept walking until he came to that familiar back room.

He rested his fist on the door, his fingers clenched tightly, and pulled his hand back to knock.

He probably should’ve just busted into the place, because the moment after he hesitated, the door swung open, and a shirtless, sweaty Mink stopped right in the entrance. He looked down at Noiz as he pulled his dreads into a messy ponytail.

“…Why are you here?” Mink rested his arm on the door frame after looping a band around his hair.

“Uh.” Noiz swallowed. “I need to talk to you. About what you said in your email.”

Mink just blinked at him for a second with a frown that said ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’ And with good reason. He’d sent more than a few emails and didn’t get a reply to any of them—not until then. When he realized what Noiz was asking him, he smirked and snorted a small laugh out of his nose.

“Go wait in there. I’m going to the bathroom.”

Mink passed him by, and Noiz watched his muscular back as he strode down the hallway. He slowly slunk into Mink’s room, which he’d never been alone in. There were a few barbells and dumbbells scattered on the floor, which explained Mink’s sweatiness and… shirtlessness when he opened the door. But Noiz still wondered what kind of person works out close to 9 at night.

He sat himself on the bed that bounced slightly with a nasty creak. His palm ran over the woven blankets, tracing around the sharp turns of the tribal patterns with his index finger.

Noiz only looked up when Mink walked back into the room about five minutes later, still shirtless, but considerably less sweaty. Without looking at Noiz, he grabbed a seemingly big shirt that stretched taught around his muscles when he pulled it over his head, then lit the incense in the holder that was on his desk. The smell was familiar to Noiz; Mink never really changed his preferences that much, anyway. His room always smelled vaguely like cinnamon.

“So,” Mink said, pulling up a chair next to the bed. He sat down and bent his back pretty dramatically, resting his elbows on his knees and curling his fingers underneath his chin. Despite his posture, he was still bigger than Noiz when he was sitting. “You know you could’ve just sent an email back to me, right? You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“Like I didn’t know that, you ass,” Noiz said, slouching with his arms crossed in front of him. “I just sort of… wound up here.”

Mink quirked his eyebrow at that.

“Alrighht, I’m here to listen what you _think_ you know about Clear, who actually has dinner waiting for me when I get back to my apartment,” Noiz said, puffing out his chest, “So can you get on with it?”

“…Clear…the robot. So he has a name.”

“Well, only because I gave it to him. I wasn’t going to address him as a number.” Noiz wasn’t looking at Mink, but he knew that his statement probably caused some kind of reaction. “So, you didn’t just want to tell me that you somehow found Clear was a machine?”

“No. I know you’re not an idiot.”

Noiz let out a sarcastic snicker.

“Anyway,” Mink said, loosening his posture, “Some of my guys have connections in Platinum Jail, specifically with the scientists that work in the labs in Oval Tower. They mostly just trade things you can only get in Midorijima for chemicals and supplies to make drugs. While they were there last month, one of them overheard some of the scientists talking in the stairwell.”

“…And it was something about Clear?”

“I think so,” He started again, lowering his eyes to the ground. “The guy that heard them talking said they mentioned something about a new line of robots, and he assumed that they were just manufacturing a new allmate design, since that what their job is… but they started mentioning ‘brain capacity’, ‘fighting strength’,  and trying to make the machine function and look as human-like as possible alongside those attributes. And then, they mentioned that there was a defective model that managed to escape. They said that they needed to find it before it caused trouble for them.”

“So you think that it's Clear?” Noiz brushed his thumb over his knuckles, thinking. “I guess it makes sense, but—“

“I want to talk to him.”

Mink cut Noiz off, staring him down with his sharp blue eyes.

“You want to talk to Clear? What for?”

“If he is that defective robot from Oval Tower’s labs, I need to know if he knows something. Toue runs those labs, and he decides what gets put out to the public and what doesn’t. If those robots were for commercial use, Platinum Jail would already know about them. But It looks like it’s top secret, and Toue is up to something.”

“You think that Toue is planning to do something nasty. That little old man? Sure, he’s always got that shit-eating grin, but do you really—“

“This is the only way I can find anything out without getting myself and my group too far into the public eye. Let me talk to him.”

Noiz glowered, crossing his legs, ankle to knee.

“First of all, stop cutting me off. It’s annoying. And what makes you think that Clear would even say anything to you? I asked him where he came from when we first met and he didn’t say anything about it.”

“I’m a little more intimidating than you.”

“So you’re gonna scare it out of him?”

“If I have to.”

“Mink.”

Both of them sighed heavily, glaring at each other when they realized they did it in unison.

“I don’t understand why you care so much about this,” Mink said. “I never ask for favors. I just need this one.”

“I can’t guarantee that he’ll talk to you,” Noiz said after a moment of hesitation, running a hand through his hair. He left his palm at the back of his neck. “So let me talk to him first. He trusts me more now, I think.”

Mink softened his gaze at Noiz a little, which caught him off guard. He laughed under his breath.

“What’s that look for? It’s creeping me out.”

“I’m surprised that you’re getting so close to him. I don’t know what that robot is like, but I didn’t think that there was a single personality type that you clicked with. It just isn’t like you.”

There it was. Noiz was wondering if it was coming—the realization that Noiz was acting different from his usual self for whatever reason. Maybe it was more obvious to everyone else than it was to Noiz. But it felt kind of disgusting to hear out loud.

“Maybe you just don’t know me that well.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

When Noiz lifted his head to rebut him, Mink was leaning in towards the bed, barely hovering above his chair. His eyes were serious and full of initiative; he was already uncomfortably close to Noiz—and for some reason, Noiz felt like closing his eyes and waiting for what he knew was coming like he always used to to—and he almost did, slightly parting his lips and gripping the sheets that he sat on as Mink closed the distance between them.

Noiz almost let himself fall into that pattern again until he stood up so fast that the blood rushing everywhere made him lightheaded. He put a hand to his forehead.

“I’m leaving.”

He thought he heard Mink chuckle in his low, intimidating (and insanely annoying right at that moment) voice, but he didn’t look back and just kept straight for the door.

“…Let me know if he talks.”

“Yeah” was all that Noiz could manage.

 

* * *

 

Noiz’s footsteps pounded loudly and angrily along the pavement as he made his way back to the Southern District. He didn’t even stop to think about how much attention he was drawing to himself with his dramatic saunter; his head was too full of questions to think about anything else.

What exactly did Mink expect to get from talking to Clear? What was he planning to with the information if he got it? Why was so concerned with what he thought Toue might be planning?

Noiz’s footsteps slowed to a stop.

…Why did he try to kiss him?

And why was he so gentle?

He rubbed his palm against his brow, gritting his teeth in distaste and frustration, and started walking again It was too much to think about. And it was honestly kind of freaking him out. Talk about Noiz not acting like himself—that was way out of character for Mink.

…Or maybe it wasn’t?

He was shaken from his thoughts when he ran into someone, their shoulders knocking together roughly, and instead of the two of them just continuing on, Noiz was pulled backwards by his arm and almost pushed into the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re—“

Noiz stopped himself when he recognized who he had run into. Actually, there were two of them-- One burly and one relatively smaller figure stood in front of him, dramatically lighted by the streetlight above them. They were the two people that confronted Noiz the day he found Clear in the alley.

“Ehh, look who it is! I wasn’t expecting to run into you here, but it certainly is a pleasure,” The bigger one said, a creepy smile peeling across his face.

It didn’t sound like he was happy to see Noiz. It sounded like he wanted to beat the shit out of him.

“You really caused a lot of trouble for me and my friend here,” the shorter one started. “Broke two of my ribs and his nose. Look how fucked it is now. You did that to him. Sniveling little brat.”

“We were just trying to make a friendly deal, and you had to go all macho on us,” The bigger man cut in, and then he pressed his forearm into Noiz’s throat, pushing him up into the wall with a considerable amount of force. “We’re not going to go easy on you this time.”

Despite his position, Noiz smirked and mocked the two with a laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He obviously didn’t consider the situation that well—or maybe he did, but just wanted to save face—but in the moment that followed his snarky remark, Noiz was lifted into the air by the collar of his shirt, bashed in the face about five times, then promptly thrown back into the ground.

A foot swung back, ready to kick, but Noiz quickly reacted and rolled out of the way. The foot collided with the brick wall instead, and the burly man hissed between his teeth.

“Motherfucker…”

He knew he had to get off the ground, but another kick came at him swiftly, this time from the smaller guy, and Noiz bounced back into the pavement a little, feeling the impact in his ribs. Enduring the pain, he quickly rolled onto his back and forward again, swinging to his feet, but as soon as he was up, a fist flew at his cheek and made him stagger backwards. He felt his mouth fill with blood and tried to steady himself. He swung blindly at the figure before him, still slightly off balance, but the man caught Noiz’s fist in his hand.

Noiz jerked his arm away as he felt it being twisted, shoved his hand in his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and flicked it open.

The larger man took a step back as Noiz slashed at him, slicing his palm open. He cursed in pain, drawing his hand away; the two men looked at each other for a moment, and in their instant of hesitation, Noiz’s feet blasted off the pavement and he took off running.

“Yeah, tail between your legs and run, you pussy,” One of the men called. If Noiz wasn’t so done with the situation he would have turned right around and shoved his blade down that guy's throat.

As soon as he felt far enough away, Noiz slowed his pace down. He looked at his reflection in the window of a building next to him. His skin was split and bleeding in several areas, including his cheekbone, lip, and brow, his nose was bleeding, and the majority of his face was starting to swell up.

He spit the blood out of his mouth and clenched his teeth.

Perfect. Just perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW things happened.
> 
> and thanks for 100 kudos!!♥o♥


	7. Chapter 7

Noiz was stumbling along the sidewalk slower than he had wanted to, but his vision wasn’t fading, so he was thankful for that. He probably wasn’t even hit that hard or losing that much blood, but the irritation of getting jumped and beat up by the same guys that tried to sell him drugs and grope him a couple weeks ago was making him dizzy. If that was even possible.

He managed to make it back to his apartment without tripping over his own feet, luckily, although he fumbled with his key a little when he was unlocking the door.

“Welcome back!”

Noiz realized that amid his irritation, he had completely forgotten all about his roommate, who was setting dinner on the kitchen counter just in time for Noiz’s return. He wasn’t even really in the mood to eat or talk anymore. All he wanted to do was get upstairs, go to sleep, and preferably not wake up in the morning. Yeah, that would make him happy. So Noiz decided not to respond and made his way towards the stairs while Clear still wasn’t looking.

Apparently he didn’t do it fast enough, though, because before he knew it, Clear was standing in front of him practically two feet away from the door, anxiously shaking his hands around.

“Noiz! What happened to you?!”

“I got in a fight,” Noiz said nonchalantly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers to see if it still hurt, and—yep. It did. He winced a little from the pain, which only exacerbated Clear’s distress.

“We should take care of your injuries,” Clear said, curling his hand around Noiz’s wrist and tugging him lightly in the direction of the bathroom. Noiz pulled his hand out of Clear’s grasp and took a step backwards.

“Don’t bother,” Noiz muttered, not really trying to hide the scowl on his face. “They’ll will fade over a few days.”

“Don’t they hurt, though? Let me help you.”

“Not really. And I don’t need your help.”

“Noiz,” Clear sighed, his expression getting serious, “If you didn’t help me back when you found me, I would just be a heap of scrap metal.” He grabbed Noiz’s wrist again, the second time more forcefully.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Noiz said firmly, whipping his arm back harder, noticing the hurt expression on Clear's face that showed for only a moment. He glared at Clear, who seemed equally as angry, but he couldn’t figure out why. He knew that Clear was right, that he had a reason to want to help him, but he just really wanted him to let it go. The last thing he wanted was to have someone coddle him, so he tried to push him away. “So this is your way of getting back at me? Doing things against my will just so you can pay off your ‘debt’ to me faster? Why do you feel like you owe me?”

Clear twitched his eyebrow and threw one arm forward to grab the collar of Noiz’s shirt. He pulled him in closer, not to hurt him, but to get him to listen. His eyes were forceful and the fist that was clenched in the fabric of Noiz’s shirt was white at the knuckles, shaking ever so slightly. Noiz had never seen Clear lose his temper before, and considering that Clear was bigger than him and had the upper hand at that moment, he was nervous.

“I’m not doing this to get even,” Clear insisted, his voice softer than Noiz had expected. “I’m doing this because I care about you. And I will never, ever stop owing you. Because you gave me a second chance at life.”

Noiz swallowed, his eyes fixed on Clear's suddenly serious gaze. Clear gradually loosened his grip on Noiz’s shirt, but was still holding the fabric lightly with his fingers as if he desperately needed the contact. Noiz felt like he wanted it, too.

“You need to remember,” He continued, furrowing his eyebrows, “that you’re human. You can get injured, you can get sick, and you can die. You can act like a machine if you want to, but don’t pretend to be as tough as one. Please.”

Clear let his hand fall, the connection between the two broken except for the eye contact that they held. And the longer that Noiz looked into that gentle gaze, the more comforted he felt. For once, he felt like letting someone pity him.

“…Fine,” Noiz mumbled, bringing one hand to the back of his neck. “Fine, I’ll let you help me. But I won’t like it.”

A big smile spread across Clear’s face, which Noiz didn’t really get, but for some reason, it made him feel less irritated. He whacked Clear on the arm and started for the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

“Ow, shit!”

Clear looked up at Noiz with a concerned expression, pulling the rag he held away from Noiz’s face. He knelt on the floor in front Noiz, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, his face half-bandaged and wiped clean.

“Sorry,” Clear said, adding more alcohol to the rag, “but it’s going to hurt if you want it to heal. So just grit your teeth and bear it.”

“Yeah, yea—Fuck!”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, well you could’ve given me a little warning,” Noiz said, rubbing his busted cheek with his palm. Clear smacked his hand away punitively, then put a big bandage over his wound before taping it in place.

“All done,” Clear said, his hands folded in his lap and a too-cheerful grin on his face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“...Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Clear said playfully, putting away the rubbing alcohol and bandages under the sink. “I finished dinner, though, so all we need to do is heat it up…”

He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Noiz, who was still sitting on the edge of the tub, one hand running through his hair.

“Noiz?”

“…You piss me off,” He said, finally.

“Why is that? What did I do?”

Noiz wanted to be mad at him. He wanted to ignore Clear for making him do something against his will, for being so forceful with him,  for displaying so much dominance—but he couldn’t.

“I can’t find a reason to hate you.”

“You…” Clear’s voice trailed off, turning into a chuckle. Noiz looked up at him, confused as to why he was laughing. “You’re weird!”

“What—you’re the weird one! Why are you laughing?”

“Because you say interesting things like that. I’d think that it’s a good thing that you don’t hate me, right?”

“But—no, you don’t get it. I don’t _like_ people. But you—“

“Oh, I get it. I’m special.”

“I didn’t say that!”

Noiz clenched his fists at his sides and took a step back. He didn’t realize that he’d stood up for advanced closer to Clear, and for whatever reason, Clear didn’t seem to get defensive. In fact, he had that stupid smile plastered on his face despite the fact that it looked like Noiz was about to punch him square in the jaw. Noiz was doing all these things that he didn’t realize. It was like he was out of his mind. He never got flustered, he rarely showed his feelings, but now—now, he couldn’t even stop himself.

“Anyway,” Clear said, holding his constant tone, “Now we can have dinner together. So come out when you’re ready.”

 

* * *

 

Noiz lay on his back in bed, staring up at the empty, gray ceiling. It felt colder than usual, and as he tried to drift off, he wondered if Clear was already sleeping downstairs.

The dinner that Clear made was almost _too_ good for just being chicken fried rice. After the first bite, he decided that he would be pretty difficult for him to go back to eating instant noodles and actually somewhat enjoy them. While they were eating, Clear acted like nothing had happened that day—he seemed to pretend that he didn’t get weird when he pinned himself on Noiz for just a little too long to consider it an accident, that he didn’t get too serious and insistent when Noiz came home with his face all busted up and bloodied. Maybe it just didn’t mean that much to him, or he just acted that way in the spur of the moment. Desperate times call for desperate measures or something. Noiz, on the other hand, seemed almost hyper aware of everything that was happening, and when they separated to go to bed, he felt like a weight was lifted off his chest, as if he spent the whole time they were together holding his breath.

Noiz rubbed his face, trying to get the image of Clear's stern, fierce, yet gentle pink eyes out of his head. The eyes that were usually drifting around, not focusing on anything in particular, shining with a friendly glow at almost everything around him. The eyes that only looked the way they did that night in front of Noiz.

He wanted to smack himself.

Instead, he opted for flipping himself over and covering his head with a pillow, trying to clear his mind of any thoughts. But of course that was impossible. Too much had happened in one day. Noiz wasn’t the type of person that really enjoyed excitement; he liked predictable situations and people that didn’t get in his way or make him over-complicate things. Which is exactly what he was doing instead of sleeping.

Soon, he started thinking about what he had pushed to the back of his mind all day. He thought about Mink.

Noiz had honestly not been expecting to have contact with him so often, especially not in person.  It was actually kind of disconcerting. He wouldn’t use the word “clingy” to describe how Mink was acting, but he certainly was holding on. He never thought of Mink as someone who would go out of his way to keep contact with someone who left him behind, but then again, Noiz left before he ever got a good chance to _really_ know him.

And suddenly, his head was flooded with memories he thought he’d repressed.

 

* * *

 

It started back when Noiz was still into doing drugs. During that time, Noiz made more frequent trips to the Northern District, both to work as a mechanic and meet up with his supplier, who, incidentally, was a member of Scratch. In lieu of actual money, Noiz usually traded his services in the form of a routine systems-check of his dealer’s bike for the drugs.  Usually, his dealer would ramble on about several things (mostly the gang) while Noiz listened half-heartedly and did his work. He talked about their head, who was a pretty upstanding leader and not all that bad once you got over his threatening exterior. He said that his name was Mink, and that he was good to his guys, but he was also pretty mysterious, even to the members that knew him well.

One day, Noiz had made his way to the Scratch hideout after his supplier failed to respond to several messages and calls about their next meeting. Noiz wasn’t worried, he was just annoyed and wanted to see for himself if there was a real reason for the silence. When he got to the room the two usually made their deals in, the bike he usually worked on was gone and a large, tanned man sat in a chair near the middle of the room. When he noticed Noiz in the doorway, he stood up, and the difference between their two bodies became extremely evident.

Before Noiz could even ask about the situation, the tall man whipped out a small bag with a crystal-like substance and held it out in front of him.

“Your dealer got into a bit of a mess with another one of the groups in this area,” he started, his low voice resounding in Noiz’s ears. “He got roughed up and is taking some time in the hospital now, but I was told to give this to you. You’ll probably have to find someone else to supply to you for a couple weeks.”

Noiz nodded cautiously and reached for the bag that was held in front of him, but the thick fingers that held it pulled away slightly when Noiz’s hand came forward.

“…You know, you shouldn’t really take this stuff. Try something more natural. This’ll really fuck up your head.”

“That’s the point, asshole,” Noiz said, snatching the small bag out of his fingers before turning to leave. He stopped hesitantly at the door.

“Are you Mink?”

“…Yeah, why.”

“Nothing. You just fit the description,” Noiz said, then turned to lean on the doorframe. “Why are you doing favors for your subordinates?”

Mink’s eyes tightened. “I’m like you. Just doing what needs to be done to keep this machine moving.”

Noiz quirked an eyebrow and tried not to smirk at that.

“Oh, so you know about me?”

“I do. I’ve seen you around.”

“I wonder why I haven’t seen you, then,” Noiz said. “Well, let me know if I can offer my services to you any time.” Mink just grunted in response, and Noiz wasn’t sure that he picked up on the innuendo, but if he did, it was pretty boring that he just played it off. Noiz wanted to make him flustered. He wanted to be able to change that tight expression in some way. And from that moment on, he felt an involuntary attraction to that big, mysterious man.

Eventually, Mink did contact Noiz to work on his bike. He paid him pretty well, though not in drugs, unfortunately, so the money that he got was usually spent before he even left the Scratch building. Mink was usually quiet when Noiz was there, which was an interesting change from what Noiz was used to. He was usually reading in his armchair, not detecting the short glances that Noiz snuck at him. He noticed that Mink wore glasses when he read, which made him sufficiently less threatening but also, unfortunately, ten times more attractive.

Noiz often threw sarcasm at Mink and learned that he registered it, he just didn’t react to it. He didn’t really react to anything. Noiz started wondering he could do to get _some_ kind of reaction out of him. He was too curious for his own good, and that curiosity developed into a strange desire that welled up inside him every time he came to do his work. And eventually, he decided to take a risk.

When Noiz was done working for the day, his toolbag all packed up and set by the door, Mink rose from his armchair and stepped towards him with his payment for the job. Noiz ignored his outstretched hand and instead looked up into Mink’s face, awaiting reaction.

“…What? Take your money.”

“I don’t want that this time.”

“You’re not going to get drugs from me.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for,” Noiz said, and fisted his hands in the front of Mink’s shirt, pulling him downward a little. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t react either. Maybe he would soon. “…I want you to do me.”

There was a tense silence as Noiz held his gaze on Mink’s, and then an exasperated sigh as Mink grabbed Noiz’s wrists and removed his hands from his shirt, placing the money in them afterward.

“Don’t joke around with me.”

“I’m not.”

Noiz’s answers were instantaneous, but Mink seemed to hesitate after every response. He was probably getting annoyed, but that was good. Noiz just had to push him a little farther, then, maybe…

Noiz tossed the roll of cash away and grabbed Mink through his pants, and he could practically feel how big his dick was on his palm. He moved his other hand to undo Mink’s belt, but was caught at the wrist again before he could even unhook it. Noiz looked up to see Mink glaring down at him, and he shivered.

“Are you really serious?”

“Obviously I am.”

“And you understand what you’re getting into—“

“If you’re gonna do it, just fuck me already.”

Mink grunted. “You’re too demanding. Too energetic.”

“Then why don’t you punish me,” Noiz whispered with a sly grin, reaching his free arm up around Mink’s neck, ghosting along the skin with his fingers until he grabbed one of Mink’s dreads and pulled on it just enough to hurt.

“…If that’s what you really want,” Mink rumbled. He grabbed Noiz by the arm, his fingers gripping just a little too tight, and practically threw him into bed. He climbed on top of him, immediately starting to lick and bite at the pale skin around Noiz’s neck. Noiz draped his arms over Mink’s broad shoulders, pulled at the fabric of Mink’s shirt, making it rise just a little, and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon before he was pushed back down into the mattress.

“You have a lot of piercings,” Mink muttered, licking his lips as he pulled away from Noiz’s neck, satisfied with the marks he left. “Did they hurt?”

“It’s a—nnh… pleasurable pain,” Noiz said, bucking his hips up into Mink, who easily held them down with one hand, leaving Noiz to groan in irritation underneath him. Noiz got hard way too fast, and probably would have felt embarrassed by it if he wasn't distracted by how damn  _good_ it felt.

“You like it, huh? Maniac.”

“Don’t call me that,” Noiz said, pulling on one of Mink’s dreads again, this time much harder. “Just touch me.”

A deep laugh rumbled from Mink’s throat, and he slipped Noiz’s pants down to his knees before gripping Noiz through his underwear with a considerable amount of force. Noiz grunted in response, lifting his hips up with a whine when the pressure left him.

“That was good, huh?”

“Mmh… Do it again.”

Mink growled, but obeyed anyway, digging his fingers into Noiz’s dick, gripping harder than he did the first time. He watched Noiz unravel underneath him, almost captivated by the faces he made and the sighs and moans that slipped through his clenched teeth. "...Freak."

“S-shut up, already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ┐( ˘_˘)┌
> 
> more clear soon i promiSE


	8. Chapter 8

When Noiz woke up, he was harshly reminded of the beating he took the night before by a throbbing headache and a sharp pain in his side. He found the strength and motivation in himself to get out of bed after a few minutes of leaning motionless against his headboard, staggering slightly as he felt his thighs tense up. He slowly managed to gain his footing and eased himself down the flight of stairs.

Clear was still sleeping on the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. He was probably waking up every morning with numb feet. Noiz had considered letting Clear sleep in his bed, but decided that he would only do it if Clear had asked-- Which of course, he was too polite to do.

He snuck past his sleeping roommate and slunk into the bathroom, relieving himself after a long night of overthinking unnecessary crap instead of sleeping before meeting his gruff face in the mirror. The bandages on his face were crusty with blood, so he peeled them off and wiped his face clean. He prodded at the discolorations on his cheek and felt a sting at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t have much work to do for at least a week, so he didn’t have to go out in public looking like he got his ass kicked (even though that’s exactly what happened).

Outside of the bathroom, it looked like Clear had woken up mere seconds before Noiz opened the door. His pure white hair was disheveled and sticking to his face, and his eyes were groggy and unfocused as he started to yawn. His attention was drawn to Noiz as he walked over to him to sit down on the couch—he plopped down on the cushion, bumping Clear’s thigh a little and forcing him to move over and make a little room. When Clear didn’t move, Noiz leaned on his shoulder a little bit, trying to force him over, but he still didn’t budge. Noiz was too tired to exert any more effort than that, though, so he just dealt with the lack of space and reached for his coil on the coffee table.

“Morning,” Clear finally managed as Noiz started up his coil. He rocked forward a bit to stretch his arms and back before he put a sluggish smile on his face and turned to face Noiz. “Oh, your face looks worse today.”

“Well, thank you,” Noiz responded, sarcastically, glancing at Clear from the corner of his eye.

“That means it’s healing! And I didn’t mean it in a bad way, you know. You don’t look bad. Your red cheeks kind of cute.”

Clear failed to mention Noiz's developing black eye, puffy nose and huge-ass bump on his forehead. But he didn't make an effort to remind him.

“That's such a fucking weird thing to say.”

"Is it?"

"I don't usually get called things like that, especially not when my face is all swollen and purple and shit."

Clear leaned forward on his knees, like he was contemplating something.

"What do you usually get called?"

"Uh," Noiz said, lowering his coil for a moment, shooting a confused look at Clear. He answered him anyway. "Things like 'brat', 'little shit', 'heartless bastard.'"

Clear giggled. Noiz didn't know what he thought was so funny. 

"You don't have many acquaintances, do you?"

"Hmph."

As Noiz sifted through his emails, Clear leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms out to rest on the back cushions. He started to hum to fill the silence, and the tune was familiar to Noiz—he could recite it himself by memory if he actually felt like it, which he didn’t, and probably never would. But he found that when he heard it, he felt calmer, like the reminder that Clear was beside him put him at ease.

He leaned back into the couch, stretching his legs out on the table before letting out a satisfied puff of air. No emails from Mink, no jobs that required him to leave the house, no bothersome things that would make him lose any more sleep at night.

“Noiz.”

“Hm?”

“Where exactly did you go last night?”

Noiz turned to face Clear, who was staring intently at his face, but wasn’t looking him in the eyes like he usually was. Instead, he was looking at Noiz’s injuries, and Noiz assumed that Clear thought he got himself into trouble the previous night.

“I went out to meet with a client,” Noiz said.

“But you didn’t bring your toolbox with you.”

“He was just inquiring something.”

“But couldn’t he have just emailed you?”

Noiz tensed. Relaxation time was over, apparently.

“I wanted to meet him in person,” He said, crossing his arms, irritated.

“That’s not like you, though.”

“How the hell do you know what’s ‘like me?’”

Clear shifted on the couch, bringing his left hand to his leg as he turned his upper body to face Noiz, and leaned in closer. Noiz found himself unable to back away, so just stared Clear down with a serious face.

“I’ve been living with you for a month,” Clear started. “I know that you prefer to eat my cooking over those instant meals, even though you say you like it all the same. I know that you like to be alone, even though you put up with other people all the time, especially me. And I know that when you lie, your nose scrunches up and you scowl even though you have no reason to.”

For a minute, Noiz didn’t say anything, but Clear was anticipating the silence. He realized that Clear was right and relaxed his face before letting his arms fall to his side.

“Okay,” Noiz said, finally, wondering why he let himself get defeated so easily. “Last night, I went to the Northern District to meet with someone I know.”

“The Northern District!? Why—“

“Hey! Let me finish. Just so you know, I used to go there all the time.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Clear mumbled under his breath. Noiz just ignored him and continued very matter-of-factly.

“I just went there, found out what I needed to now, and left. I decided to go there in person because I wanted the information right away. Nothing happened in the Northern District. Then, I got jumped by some punks on my way back. I managed to get away before they did too much damage, though.”

“This is why you should let me accompany you when you go places,” Clear pressed, his face starting to look more worried than intimidating.

“I don’t need you to follow me around like a dog,” Noiz responded bluntly.

“But I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Why does that matter so much? I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before, and it’s not like you have to take responsibility for it.”

Noiz flinched when Clear brought his hands up to his shoulders, facing Noiz towards him and looking at him sternly in the eyes. It was the same expression that Clear had the night before and the same intense grip, like he thought Noiz was going to run away from him.

“I already told you,” He sighed, voice shaky, “I care about you. And when you care about someone, you don’t want to see them in pain. You want to protect them, and I can’t do that unless you let me!”

Clear’s eyes trailed down slowly, his lips pressed in a firm line, worry taking over his expression. He let his head fall to Noiz’s shoulder and he took a shaky breath.

“Don’t shut me out, please, Noiz,” Clear continued, his breath hot on Noiz’s shoulder. “I want to be there for you. I want to be good enough for you, I want to protect you—I don’t want to be abandoned, not again…”

Noiz swallowed the lump in his throat.

‘Not again?’

It was too early in the morning for things to be so intense. He brought a hand up to Clear’s back, unsure of what to do, but Clear’s grip on his shoulders loosened a little, so he assumed it was a move in the right direction.

“I… I won’t abandon you, ok?” He rubbed his hand along Clear’s spine, his voice low and about as comforting as he could manage. He wasn’t exactly the caring type. “We made a deal, didn’t we? As long as you keep making yourself useful, you can stay.”

Clear pulled back from Noiz’s shoulder with a smile stretching his face.

“Yes! Thank you!”

“But you’re not my bodyguard, alright?” Clear nodded reluctantly, and Noiz knew it probably wouldn’t be the last time he would have to tell him that. “Okay, now hands off. And move over a little, damn it.”

Clear quickly released his hands from Noiz’s shoulder, like he didn’t realize how tightly he was holding him, and slid to the other side of the couch, resting his elbow on the armrest. Satisfied with the space between them, Noiz pulled his legs up to the couch and curled them at his side, his toes just barely touching Clear’s thigh, then turned on the television.

He somewhat missed the closeness once it was gone, but there was no way he was going to move closer after he told Clear to get away from him.

 

* * *

 

 

They watched some infomercials and DIY home improvement for a few hours until Noiz got bored (Clear was literally fine with watching anything) and started switching channels until he found something interesting. He passed a few commercials, sitcoms, and TV dramas until he decided on the main news station. The picture took a second to settle, and an image Toue appeared on the screen.

He was talking about a new program—looked like Noiz tuned in too late to hear exactly what it was—and spewed out a bunch of things that Noiz thought were bullshit at a crowd that was just eating up everything he said.

“With this revolutionary new program, we will decrease the need for manual labor, eliminating the use of workers,” Toue announced to the audience in front of him. His voice was as soothing as ever, but still just as irritating to Noiz. “More people will be able to stay at home relaxing instead of worrying themselves over their jobs. A more relaxed society is a much happier society. ”

The crowd cheered, and Noiz let his head fall back and groaned. Toue continued on about the well-being of the citizens of Midorijima and the construction of a much more functional, reliable workforce and a happier home life, the gathered people basically screaming every time he ended a sentence. Noiz thought it was disgusting.

That’s what Midorijima was like—at least, that’s what Platinum Jail was like. Everyone was worshippers of Toue, thought everything he said was gospel, and everything he did was some kind of miracle. No one in the rest of Midorijima heard from Toue much unless they turned on the news. Noiz didn’t care for him in particular just because of how fake he was. Noiz was positive that Toue was older than he claimed to be and didn’t really believe anything he said—when he actually listened to him, of course.

“I don’t think the people in that audience have any idea what that bastard’s talking about,” Noiz huffed. “I mean, I don’t really care what he does, as long as it doesn’t affect me, but why are people excited about getting replaced in their jobs?”

He wasn’t really talking to Clear, but he still expected an answer from him, so Noiz glanced in his direction when the room fell silent.

Clear was gripping the fabric at his knees, looking down intently before he stood up swiftly and walked toward the kitchen, making Noiz flinch again. He seemed to force a smile on his face.

“I’m going to make breakfast now.”

“Hold on, it’s almost noon, can’t you just wait until lunch?”

“Then I’ll was the dishes.”

“We did them before we went to bed last night. Remember, you say that they start to smell if you don’t wash them right away.”

“Then I’ll do the laundry!”

Noiz watched, confused, as Clear turned around sharply and walked up the stairs. His attitude did a complete 180 from how it was earlier, but Noiz wasn’t concerned enough to follow him. Besides, soon enough he would’ve realized that they did the laundry recently, too, and would just wind up back where he started.

Then Noiz remembered what Mink told him. That oval tower was producing a new line of machines, possibly using modified data that was intended for allmates for a much more advanced purpose instead. And that Clear could be one of them. And that he wanted Noiz to try to get information out of him so he could find out for sure. He slowly connected what he just heard on the television to the information that Mink had relayed to him, until he was distracted by a sound across the room.

Clear came down the stairs slowly and sat back down on the couch with a sigh.

“…You calmed down?”

“Yeah, sorry. Can we watch something else?”

Noiz nodded and passed Clear the remote.

He wondered if Clear knew how obvious he was being, openly reacting to something that shouldn’t have mattered to him, completely forgetting everything as he searched to distract himself. Noiz could’ve easily cornered him with that evidence and gotten the information that Mink was looking for.

But he didn’t do it. He wouldn’t pressure him.

He watched as Clear shifted through the channels, biting his lip a little and bouncing his leg up and down. He glanced over at Noiz once, jumping a little when he saw he was looking, and his eyes darted back to the screen. Way too obvious. Finally, he settled on a cooking show and quickly set down the remote before trying to settle down into the couch, but failing to look believably comfortable.

Noiz stretched his feet over the cushions and poked Clear’s leg with his toes to get his attention.

“What’s your problem? You’re being weird.”

“It… it’s nothing. Nothing that I can tell you.”

At least he was being honest.

 “Whatever,” Noiz said, leaning into the armrest and turning his head away. He was frustrated, especially because Clear was so pushy just a few minutes before. But he still wouldn’t pressure him into giving an answer. “…If you want to start on lunch, go ahead. We can have an early dinner later.”

Clear smiled, nodded, and walked over to the kitchen.

Noiz wanted to know what he knew. He didn’t want to force it out of Clear, though—he wanted to gain his trust, like doing that would be an accomplishment. He’d never felt like that for anyone else before. He always thought it was bothersome. But of course, everything was different with Clear. He couldn’t figure out what about him made it that way. Maybe Noiz imprinted on him or something because he was always cooking him meals and taking care of his chores, like a mother would (or like Noiz assumed a mother would,  he didn’t have the experience).

Sooner or later, Noiz knew his curiosity and (mostly) self-entitlement would get the best of him and he would try to get  _something_  out of Clear. And maybe by that time, Clear would be ready to tell him. Whether he was actually going to tell Mink or not was a whole different story. He never made any promises.

But if Mink was right about Toue producing machines with inhuman capabilities and strength, he almost definitely had some ulterior motives with the ‘revolutionary new program’ of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to clear stuff up but i feel like i am just making everything more ambiguous.
> 
> i should write longer chapters


End file.
